


Inside Edge

by IdleLeaves



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: F/F, Ficlet Collection, Flash Fic, Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-05
Updated: 2018-04-30
Packaged: 2018-10-15 00:18:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 15
Words: 4,837
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10546812
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IdleLeaves/pseuds/IdleLeaves
Summary: A collection of flashfic, drabbles, and snippets forSynchronised Screamingand other challenges.Chapter 13: Cold Warmth- For a prompt of "Yuuri - cold + warm". (Yuuri/Victor & Chris)Chapter 14: Break In- For a prompt of "Otabek + Yuri + skates + pain".(NEW) Chapter 15: DistractionFor a prompt of "Phichit + Yuuri + everything's okay + smartphone + worried".





	1. Pliant

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For a prompt of "Otabek/Yuri - showering together after a long practice".

As soon as Otabek shuts the hotel-room door behind them and sets down their skate bags, Yuri starts shedding his clothes. He kicks his boots into the closet; his jacket and track pants land in a heap on the floor. When he raises his arm to take off his shirt, though, he can't quite suppress a quiet hiss of pain.

It doesn't go unnoticed. "Still hurting?" Otabek asks.

"Yeah," Yuri admits. It's not surprising - given the awkward way he hit the ice, during practice, after somehow managing to botch his usually-consistent quad Sal - but he's irritated, regardless. Not just at the pain, but at himself, and also at the NHK schedule that leaves him with less than 24 hours until his free skate. "Going to shower," he says, and shuts the bathroom door.

He strips off the rest of his clothes and turns on the shower. The water pressure isn't high enough to really soothe his muscles, but the heat does some good, at least. For several minutes, he does nothing more than stand there with his head bowed, letting the water do what it can.

He raises his head when the bathroom door opens. "Yuri?" says Otabek. Through the translucent shower curtain Yuri can see him undress, then he pulls back the curtain and steps in.

It's not like they've never showered together before, but it usually - okay, always - leads to fooling around, and that's not at all on Yuri's mind, tonight. He's tired, his shoulders ache, and he's just not in the mood for... well, most things. Otabek should understand.

And he does, without Yuri having to say anything at all. Otabek brings his hands up and lays them on Yuri, on the muscles at the junction of neck and shoulder; he presses his thumbs in, right where it hurts, and Yuri makes a sound that's somewhere between a gasp and a groan.

"Too much?" Otabek asks.

"No," says Yuri, though he needs a moment to catch his breath.

Otabek gives him that, then starts, again, to work at his shoulders with hands that are warmer, somehow, than even the water. His grip is firm enough to make Yuri clench his teeth, but through the discomfort he can feel, after a time, his stiff, knotted muscles relaxing, becoming pliant again. The pain fades to a dull ache, and Yuri lets out a long, deep sigh.

"Better?" Otabek asks.

"Mm."

Otabek reaches out again, rubbing his thumbs over Yuri's cheeks and temples before sliding his fingers into his hair, stroking over his scalp and working through the tangles left by skating with it loose and in his face. It feels at least as good - if not better - than Otabek's hands on his neck, and Yuri has to resist the urge to let his head fall forward onto Otabek's shoulder.

It's been a long day, and tomorrow will be longer; all he needs, tonight, is anti-inflammatories and a good night's rest. He thinks that sprawling in bed with Otabek and a movie on TV might be the best way to spend his remaining waking hours. He says as much.

"Sounds fine," says Otabek, and leans in to kiss Yuri on the mouth. "Finish your shower," he continues, and moves away. "I'll wait for you in bed."


	2. Imposition

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For a prompt of "Otabek/Yuri - off-season injuries".

Otabek wakes from light sleep to Yuri’s voice and two pills being pushed into his hand. “Hmm?” he says, still drowsy.

“Painkillers,” Yuri says, holding out a cup of water. “It’s been six hours.”

“What makes you think I’m in pain?”

“You can’t _not_ be, with your knee as fucked as it is.”

He’s right. There’s a powerful ache deep in Otabek’s left knee, and it’ll only get stronger and sharper the longer he goes without medication. He chases the pills with water, and sets the cup on the coffee table in front of the sofa.

It’s just his luck, really. He finally gives in to Yuri and comes to train in Russia for the off-season - then sprains his knee less than three weeks in.

“So,” Yuri starts, “have you decided what you’re going to do?”

“I assumed I’d be heading home.”

“Assuming is stupid,” Yuri says, bluntly. “Don’t do it.”

He plunks down on the far end of the sofa; Otabek bends his knees without thinking, to give Yuri room, and can’t entirely suppress a sharp inhalation at the flare of pain. Yuri rolls his eyes, but is gentle when he straightens Otabek’s leg, resting his foot in his lap.

“You don’t have–” Yuri starts a minute later. “I mean. You could do your rehab here.”

“That would be a big imposition on you, Yuri,” Otabek says.

“Of course it would,” Yuri says. “But not _that_ much more than if we were both training. And, well. I wouldn’t mind.”

It might just be the warm evening light coming in through the windows, but Otabek thinks he sees a faint flush rising on Yuri’s cheeks.

“Anyway, just think about it,” Yuri continues, in a tone that’s probably meant to be casual.

“I will,” says Otabek, and means it. His eyes close as he slides an arm behind his head.

“If you fall asleep again I’m not dragging your ass to bed,” Yuri says, and Otabek almost laughs. Sleep or no sleep, he’s comfortable right where he is.


	3. 3:27 a.m.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For a prompt of "Otabek/Yuri - late night Skype".

Even before the call connects, Yuri expects it to go unanswered. It's already after midnight in his time zone, and Otabek is three hours ahead; he'll be asleep, now, phone muted and set to vibrate. Yuri's thumb hovers over the disconnect button, waiting - but on the fourth ring, Otabek picks up.

"Hi," he says, and he sounds alert rather than drowsy.

"What are you doing awake?" Yuri says. "It's ass o'clock there."

"I'm just headed to bed," Otabek says. True to his word, there's a creak in the background that sounds like his mattress.

"Oh."

"What's wrong, Yuri?" Otabek asks.

"What?" Yuri says. "Nothing."

"You're calling me at 3:27 in the morning without texting first and there's nothing wrong?"

"Can't I just want to talk to you?" Yuri says, and hopes it doesn't sound quite as pathetic to Otabek as it does to him.

"At a reasonable hour, yes."

"Fine," Yuri says. "I miss you, asshole."

"I miss you, too," says Otabek, and now he sounds amused, or affectionate, or both. Yuri can't always tell which, over the phone, but either way there's a familiar warmth in Otabek's voice. "As far as middle-of-the-night call reasons go, that's--"

"Stupid," Yuri interrupts. "I know."

"I was going to say 'good enough for me'."

"... Maybe. I guess." Yuri swings his legs up onto his bed and stuffs a pillow behind his back. "Skype?"

It takes a few minutes to switch over, but then Otabek's on Yuri's phone screen, lying on his back in bed with one arm behind his head. His hair is damp, his skin flushed - he must have just showered. "Hi," he says.

"Hi," says Yuri.

"So you had a terrible day," Otabek says. At Yuri's raised eyebrow, he clarifies. "I can see it in your eyes."

Yuri's not sure that Otabek can, really, given the small phone screen and low-resolution video. He's making an educated guess, probably; Yuri has to wonder, for a moment at least, why it still sometimes seems strange that Otabek knows him as well as he does.

"Want to talk about it?" Otabek asks.

"Not about that, no."

"There's a new cat hanging around that cafe I pass on the way to the rink," Otabek says. "Small. Black. She's been there for a week or so."

"How do you know it's a she?" And it goes from there: from cats and cafes to their still-rough short programs and the competitive season that's approaching too quickly for one of them and not quickly enough for the other. Yuri finds his eyes starting to drift closed, and every time they do it takes him longer to open them again.

"Hey," Otabek says, after a while. "Falling asleep on me?"

"I wish I was falling asleep on you. You're a good pillow."

"Just good?"

"Mm. Eight out of ten. Could be better." Yuri yawns, then, suddenly and sharply.

"Go to sleep, Yuri," Otabek says.

"Talk to me for a while longer," Yuri says, and gets up long enough to shut off his overhead light, leaving just the soft yellow glow from the lamp on his nightstand. He slides into bed, curling onto his side under the covers with his phone propped up against the pillow beside him.

"Close your eyes," Otabek instructs, and Yuri complies without comment or complaint. Otabek picks up the thread of conversation where they'd let it drop, before, and quietly talks Yuri to sleep.


	4. Sharp and Shallow

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For a prompt of "Otabek/Yuri - It is true love because / I put on eyeliner".

Once the gala's over, they slip out the back door and into a cab. Their hands lay on the seat between them, fingers touching but not entwined.

In the hotel elevator, Otabek reaches for Yuri, laying a hand low on his hip; Yuri looks at him with eyes shadowed purple like bruises, eyeliner smudged from where he'd rubbed sweat off his brow. Otabek hasn't skated, wasn't assigned to this competition, but his heart is hammering like he's fresh off the ice, breath coming sharp and shallow, blood pulsing in his ears.

As their room door closes behind them, Otabek pushes Yuri against it and kisses him, hands on his face to hold him still. It's too much teeth, at first, and not enough tongue, but Yuri still hooks his fingers in the belt loops of Otabek's jeans and pulls him against him from chest to knee.

"Do you want--" Otabek starts.

"No," says Yuri. "No, just--" And he works his hands between them, shoving their pants down just enough to get his fingers around both of them at once. Otabek braces himself with his palms on the door; they're still pressed close enough for him to feel Yuri's breath hot against his cheek. Close enough to feel his chest rise and fall with every stroke. Close enough to feel him arch his back when he comes.

They kiss, then, like they're just getting started. Yuri plants his hands on Otabek's shoulders and guides him, backward, into the room.


	5. Chance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For a prompt of "Leo/Guang-Hong - take a chance".

Leo can't remember the last time he skated outside. It's Guang-Hong's idea, and Leo always finds it near-impossible to say no to him - especially after they've spent most of their one free night before Skate Canada wandering through city streets they wouldn't otherwise have as much time to explore.

Once they've laced up their rented skates and stepped onto the rink, Leo has to admit that sometimes it's nice to be on the ice without expectations, and under stars. The ice is rough and their blades are dull, so they skate slowly with short strokes and shallow edges, side-by-side in lazy laps.

When they laugh, it echoes in the still winter air.

Guang-Hong is more talkative than usual, tonight; it's been months since they've seen one another, and though they talk almost daily, in person there's always so much more to say. Leo listens, mostly, and watches, too - there aren't enough other skaters on the ice for him to have to keep his eyes looking forward.

Their hands bump together once, twice, three times. On the fourth, Leo takes Guang-Hong's hand and holds it; when he feels Guang-Hong's fingers wrap around his own he knows he's made the right call. They both stop talking, for a while, but the silence curls around them, not between.

After a few more laps around the rink, Guang-Hong picks up the thread of conversation he'd dropped before, and continues - a little hesitantly - like nothing has changed. Like everything has changed.

Soon they're the last ones on the ice, and it's past time for them to return to their hotel; they glide to a stop along the boards. It might be the stars or it might be the warmth of Guang-Hong's hand in his, but Leo finds himself taking another chance and stepping closer, their breath fogging in the air between them.

Guang-Hong turns his face at the last moment, and the kiss lands on his cheek. He's smiling, though, when Leo pulls back.

"Should we, maybe... try that again?" Leo asks, and Guang-Hong's answer is a quiet-but-certain, "Yes."

Above them, the sky is clouding over, and it's starting to snow.


	6. Paws and Relax

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For a prompt of "Otabek and Yuri with a bunch of kittens".

By the time their last pre-competition public practice is over, Yuri's eyes are twin thunderclouds. Otabek listens to him rant - about everything from crowded practice ice to near-collisions to sound-system glitches - on the cab ride back to the hotel, and leaves him at the door to his room with a few words and a promise to meet later. "Later" proves to be sooner than Yuri must expect - Otabek heads to his own room just long enough for a shower, a change of clothes, and a few taps on his phone - then, he returns to the hall and knocks on Yuri's door.

"Come with me," he says, when Yuri opens the door, wet hair pulled back into an untidy ponytail. He stubbornly refuses to answer Yuri's questions, and it takes a long kiss - all right, more than one - to convince Yuri to follow him into a cab. It comes to a stop outside a strip mall.

Yuri looks confused, and a touch annoyed. "You're taking me... shopping?" he says.

"No," says Otabek, and pulls him toward the door of a pet-supply store - one with a garish animal-shelter adoption fair banner hanging in the window. "I saw the banner on the way to the rink this morning," Otabek says, by way of explanation. "Given your mood I thought cats might be a good idea."

Yuri neither agrees nor disagrees, at least not in words, but his hand slides into Otabek's for a moment, squeezing before letting go.

Inside, covered pens have been set up between the rows of pet food and assorted supplies. Yuri bypasses the small dogs near the entrance without so much as a second glance and heads straight for the cats. Or kittens, in this case - five wide-eyed kittens marching around inside a deep, smooth-sided pen.

"Can I?" Yuri asks, and the cat attendant nods. Yuri reaches into the pen and scoops up the smallest kitten, a black fuzzball with green eyes and an almost impossibly loud purr. He holds the kitten right up to his face; it reaches out to bat at the end of his nose with one tiny paw.

Otabek tilts his head. "I think," he says, "that was a smile."

"Oh, shut up," Yuri says, and holds out the kitten. "Here." Otabek lets the little one chew on his thumb while Yuri picks up a pair of long-haired gingers; he somehow manages to keep his hands on both of them despite their squirming, despite their attempts to scramble up to his shoulders. After a minute, they calm, and settle into his arms.

"Now that definitely was a smile," says Otabek.

"Maybe," Yuri says, grudgingly, and works a hand free to stroke one of the kittens along its back. "So," he says, "this might have been a good idea, yeah." The thank you goes unsaid, but Otabek can hear it, regardless.


	7. Pairs

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For a prompt of "strip poker".

"That does _not_ count."

Guang-Hong pauses in the middle of scrunching up a sock. "Does too."

"Does not," Phichit says, and picks up the deck of cards to shuffle for the next hand. "Socks comes in pairs."

"I lost mine at the same time," Leo chimes in.

"Your choice," Guang-Hong says. "Nobody said it was a rule." He looks from Leo to Phichit and back again; both of them are doing far better than he is. Phichit is the clear winner, so far, with only his belt in the discarded clothing pile. Leo's lost his, too, and his shirt and socks, but neither of them come close to Guang-Hong, who's down to his boxers and one - just one, now - sock.

"Let him keep the other one," says Phichit as he starts to deal the cards. "He'll lose it soon enough." 

Guang-Hong takes the balled-up sock he was about to set aside and fires it at Phichit; it bounces off his shoulder.

"Ew," says Phichit.

"At least I didn't hit you in the face," Guang-Hong says.

"You're cute when you're annoyed," Leo says, and leans over to kiss him.

"Hey," says Phichit. "What do I have to do to get some of that?"

Leo laughs. "Start losing."


	8. Oblivious

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For a prompt of "Mila/Sara with oblivious Michele".

It's hardly a surprise when Michele knocks on the door between their adjoining rooms. Sara's almost finished her first glass of wine; she sets it on the dresser and gets up to unlock the door, her deep purple top shimmering in the light. From her seat on the end of the bed, Mila admires the way it sets off her eyes.

"Hey, you," Sara says to her brother. "We're leaving in a few."

"You're still set on going to that club?" Mila can hear the disapproval in his voice. "I know what some of those places are like, Sara," he says. "If anyone so much as--"

"I'll punch them in the dick," Mila interrupts, and that, at least, shuts him up. "Relax," she continues. "We're just going out for drinks and dancing, right Sara?"

"Right," says Sara, though there's a sparkle in her eye that Michele, thankfully, doesn't notice.

"I promise I won't let any men take her home," Mila says, wickedly; Michele looks like he might have a fit right there. "Emil," Mila calls. "Do something with him."

"Be careful. Please," Michele says, as Emil pokes his head around the doorframe; he reaches out to grab Michele by the elbow and steer him back into his room. As soon as Michele's back is turned, Emil winks at them with a bright grin.

The door closes behind them. "Emil knows," says Sara, and she sounds at least mildly surprised.

"Of course he knows," says Mila, and she leans forward to grab Sara's hand and pull her to sit next to her on the bed. "Just because Mickey's oblivious doesn't mean everyone else is."

Sara tilts her head to consider that, then nods. "You're right." She bumps Mila's shoulder with her own. "As usual. Are you ready to go?"

"Nope," says Mila, and turns Sara's face toward her with her free hand for a long, lingering kiss. "Okay," she says, when they part. " _Now_ I'm ready. Let's go."


	9. Almost Time

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For a prompt of "Leo/Phichit + it's almost time + at Skate America". Double drabble.

From behind the curtain, Leo can hear music come to its end and the near-full-capacity crowd swell with applause and cheers; there's just two skaters left, now, before him.

Beside him, Phichit slips his hand into Leo's. "Almost time," he says. Leo nods, and takes a slow, deep breath as Phichit twists to stand in front of him, studying him for a moment. "Oh," says Phichit, and unbuttons Leo's collar.

"What are you... ?" Leo's question trails off as Phichit rebuttons it, adjusting it, folding it along Leo's neck and pressing the edges flat. He lets his hands linger on Leo's collarbone longer than strictly necessary.

"There. Perfect."

Leo's sure it looks the same as it did before, but he leaves that thought unvoiced; Phichit's smile is contagious, and he returns it warmly.

"Selfie?" Phichit asks. Before Leo can even agree - like he always does - Phichit has his phone in hand, stretching his arm out in front of him to fit them both in the frame. The camera clicks once, twice, and Phichit leans over to kiss Leo's cheek. "Now go," he says, and squeezes Leo's hand before moving back so Leo can step up to the curtain. "You've got this."


	10. Subtle

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For the Victor/Yuuri square on the SynS bingo card.

Walking home from the bar is Victor’s idea. He hopes the cold and snow will sober them up, some. It doesn’t - it just makes them shiver, but at least Yuuri had insisted Victor put his shirt back on before leaving.

Their keys make it into the lock on the second (or third) try. Victor closes the door behind them by backing Yuuri against it and kissing him senseless. They laugh between kisses, and Yuuri shoves his hands into Victor’s back pockets.

Victor pulls Yuuri away from the door, and down the hall toward their bedroom. He smacks his shin on the hall table on the way by; it’ll be bruised in the morning.

“Come here,” Victor says, and take Yuuri’s hands. He steps back, toward the bed, but his calves hit the mattress before he expects it and they fall, together, landing in an awkward pile of limbs. It’s not comfortable, not in any sense of the word, but their faces are just a few inches apart and it’s Yuuri who kisses Victor first, this time.

Victor reaches between them and - he’s never been good at subtle - palms Yuuri through his jeans. “You want to…?” he asks.

 _Yes_ , says Yuuri’s mind, but his body has other ideas. Damn Victor for insisting on vodka. Yuuri reaches down, and lifts Victor’s hand from his zipper. “No,” he says, with a sigh that communicates all it needs to. Victor nods - he’d had no less to drink than Yuuri - and pulls his phone out of his pocket, tossing it somewhere in the direction of the nightstand.

“Did you set an alarm?” Yuuri asks.

“No,” says Victor. “I’m your coach,” he continues, like it’s the most logical response in the world. “We’re taking tomorrow off.”


	11. Favour

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For a generator prompt of "Mila/Sara + at a post-competition gala + desire". Triple drabble.

Mila lets out a low whistle when Sara steps out of the dressing room; even in the harsh fluorescent lights of the arena corridor she looks amazing. Mila's never seen her in tight leather pants before, and her midriff-baring top sparkles and shines as she moves. Her usual slicked-back on-ice bun is nowhere to be seen; her hair is shiny and loose around her shoulders.

"Wow," Mila says, and then again. "Wow." It's the only word she can manage to form, at first. "Turn around."

Sara obliges, and oh, Mila looks; she lets herself examine every inch of that body. Her eyes linger on Sara's ass longer than strictly necessary; or no, she thinks, _exactly_ as long as necessary with pants like that.

"You like it?" Sara asks, and for some unfathomable reason she sounds, almost, a little uncertain.

"I like it." That's an understatement; Mila wants to grab Sara around the waist right there and kiss her all but senseless, but she won't leave Sara to redo her makeup this close to her skate time.

"I always do the same type of exhibition program," Sara explains. "I wanted to, you know, switch it up a little. It'll be... different." She smiles, and this time there's an edge of excitement to it.

"Different is good," Mila says, and gives in to herself a little, laying her hands low on Sara's hips. "We're leaving after you skate, right?"

Sara laughs. "I guess I can miss the rest of the gala. I'm skating near the end, anyhow."

"Just do me one favour," Mila says, and slips her fingers into the belt loops of Sara's pants to pull her close. "Don't take off the pants when we get back to the hotel."

"Why?"

Mila's smile is wicked. "I want to do the honours."


	12. Uncreative

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For a prompt of "Guang-Hong/Leo/Phichit + umbrella + vacation". Double drabble.

By mid-morning it's raining hard enough that their plans for the day have been thoroughly quashed. Guang-Hong leans against the window frame, squinting out at the near-deserted shoreline just across the street from their hotel.

"So much for the beach," he says; behind him, Phichit lets himself back into the room, a pink gift shop bag hanging from one hand.

"It might clear up later on," says Leo from his chair on the other side of the window.

Phichit sits cross-legged on the bed. "So uncreative, both of you," he says. "There are other things we can do."

Guang-Hong and Leo share a look. "That's, uh, mostly all we've been doing since we got here," says Guang-Hong.

"Not that we mind, but..." Leo adds.

"Filthy minds," says Phichit, and he sounds positively cheerful about it. He sticks his hands into the gift bag, and withdraws a trio of garish yellow disposable rain ponchos plus an umbrella that's not quite big enough for three. "This city has an entire downtown waiting for us," he says, and pulls one of the ponchos over his head; it looks ridiculous but his smile is pure sunshine. "Now let's do some sightseeing. Bring extra socks."


	13. Cold Warmth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For a prompt of "Yuuri - cold + warm". Double drabble.

Yuuri thinks he might be able to get used to this. He’d nearly kicked both Chris and Victor out of his bed when they’d come flying at him, both human icicles thanks to the late-December rooftop pool water; now, though, now they’re all arranged under the blankets with Victor in the middle and… well.

There’s not quite enough room in the bed for three, so Yuuri is pressed up against Victor’s side to keep from falling off the mattress, and it’s more comfortable than it has any right to be. He feels Victor begin to warm as he lies there, damp hair leaving wet patches on Yuuri’s pillow.

Victor works his arm out from between them and slips it around Yuuri’s shoulders. Chris shifts, beside them. _Well_ , he says, more considerate than Yuuri would have thought him to be, _I’ll warm up in my own room_. He slides away, and the door closes behind him.

Victor’s hair is cold against Yuuri’s forehead, but his body is surprisingly warm, now, and when he moves over in the bed Yuuri follows. Victor moves to wrap both arms around him, and this time, Yuuri thinks yes, he can definitely get used to this.


	14. Break In

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For a prompt of "Otabek + Yuri + skates + pain". Double drabble.

"I hate new skates," Yuri says. "Hate them." He yanks them off his feet and wipes down their wet blades before slipping on soakers and placing them into his bag.

Still unlacing his own skates, Otabek looks down to Yuri's bare feet - covered in red rub marks and bleeding where a blister has split open - then back up to his face. "Try wearing socks," he says.

Yuri scoffs. "They break in faster this way and you know it," he says, taking a few moments to stretch out his feet and ankles before looking for the sneakers he'd kicked off hours before.

"And rip your feet to shreds in the process," Otabek counters. He dries off his skates and slides them into his bag, then reaches into the side pocket for tissues and a square plaster. "Here," he says, and lifts Yuri's foot into his lap. He wipes the blood from Yuri's ankle and places the plaster over the torn blister. "Better?" he asks, with a hint of a teasing smile.

"Yeah. I guess," Yuri says, and this time he sounds closer to mild than murderous. "Thanks."

"You're welcome."

"I still hate new skates," Yuri says. Otabek just shakes his head.


	15. Distraction

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For a prompt of "Phichit + Yuuri + everything's okay + smartphone + worried".

As soon as Phichit comes through their door he can see something's wrong with Yuuri; he's cross-legged on the floor with his back against the bed, pale-faced with breath coming in harsh gasps. Phichit crosses the room in a few quick strides and drops to his knees in front of him.

"Yuuri? What's wrong?" Phichit doesn't really need an answer; he's seen Yuuri anxious before, though never like this, and he thinks he recognises it for what it is.

Yuuri doesn't turn to meet his eyes. "N-nothing," he manages to say.

Phichit reaches out his arms, meaning to draw Yuuri into a hug; Yuuri pushes him away, shaking his head. "No, don't. Please." 

"Okay," says Phichit, his voice quiet and calm for once. He turns to sit beside Yuuri with his legs stretched out in front of him. He can't bring himself to leave Yuuri alone like this; he tries to think of something, anything, to say. After a moment, what comes out is: "I've been thinking about getting another hamster."

Yuuri raises his head for just a second, looking distressed and confused at the same time. "One hamster isn't enough," Phichit continues. "He seems lonely. I think he needs a friend. Or _two_ friends. Everyone needs friends."

Phichit withdraws his phone from his pocket and clicks on an album before holding his phone out, close to Yuuri. "See? Like these." Yuuri's breaths are still too shallow, too fast, but he does look over at Phichit's phone; Phichit scrolls through hamster photo after hamster photo with a running commentary on the pics. After a time, Phichit can feel Yuuri start to calm.

He risks a bright smile. "Maybe I'll name one of the new ones after you."

Yuuri actually laughs at that; it's weak and shaky, but a laugh nonetheless. "Please don't," he says, and though his voice wavers, the corners of his lips curl up into a small smile. The colour is starting to come back into his cheeks; he tips his head back and rests it on the bed, eyes closed.

Phichit pats Yuuri on the shoulder, then shifts like he's going to get to his feet. "Wait," says Yuuri, and Phichit pauses mid-motion. "Show me some more of those pictures."

Phichit sits back down, and passes Yuuri his phone.


End file.
